Considering his tone, it was hard for Arabella to do anything but nod in response and mutter, "Understood,"
The look on her face pleased Silas even less as the unhappiness she exhibited to see him brought memories of their first ever encounters, back when the young woman still shuddered at every motion he had made.
"How did dancing practice go?" Silas broke the stifling silence between them.
"Very well, Master," her eyes remained on her hands where she flicked her nails together at times and clutched at the fabric of her gown at others.
"I don't appreciate being lied to," very calm, but ice cold his timbre was.
At those words, mouth a little agape and heart ready to pounce, Arabella's gaze snapped upwards without ever connecting with his.
Her lips trembled and moved apart before reconnecting again a mere second after as though attempting to push sounds through but not the ghost of a whisper traversed.
"I told you to speak your mind, haven't I?" he paused, "Your true mind,"
An air of comprehension dawned on her, earning her features an even sadder expression, "I will always be grateful for yours as well as the Lady's kindness," she looked down once more, speaking nothing of her true feelings on the matter.
"I see,"
Silas stepped even closer, allowing his warm breath to brush from her forehead down the rest of her face.
"Look up," he ordered.
Arabella obeyed, granting the vampire a full view of her gleaming eyes, still undraped by a similar veil to those that appeared on everyone he'd ever fed upon before her.
Likewise, Arabella showed no interest in him as a person, her attitude a stark contrast from Edna's who went as far as to follow and seek him out around the manor.
Arabella refrained from blinking while he studied her eyes, afraid of irking him further than she already had, for a reason she couldn't fathom, and merely basked in the warmth that the closeness of his body proffered.
But once again, it was Silas that put an end to the pending quietude surrounding them, "You are free to go,"
"Thank you, Master,"
After a slight bow, Arabella practically scampered out of there, giving the impression she couldn't get out of there fast enough, rushing off to find the gardener, no doubt.
He clenched his fists 'till his knuckles turned white, standing stiff as a board in the middle of that hallway that seemed to stretch along the further away from him her figure ran.
Silas failed to grasp the reason for his own state of mind. By all means, the fate of her predecessors was seen as a curse. A hefty price to pay to spare them what is said to be unfathomable agony.
With that, by all accounts, Silas should have been soothed Arabella needn't share that somber luck and yet… And yet…
The young woman was only able to breathe a sigh of relief once out of those piercing diamonds' reach.
She ran down the stairs, fingers crossed in the hopes that Edna wouldn't come in her path.
Out of everyone in that manor, Silas had been the toughest shell to scratch, the most difficult to understand.
Not that he'd ever shown abundant kindness, but there were those moments where the veils would simply drop between them.
Rare instances when his smile remained hidden behind his features but audible through his voice.
Perhaps, he worried Arabella would catch feelings for him as well. One human running around with unreciprocated infatuation for him must have been exhausting enough.
As those thoughts turned and tossed in her mind, an image of Edna flashed behind her eyes, causing a shiver to run down her spine.
Yes, one Edna was more than enough, for sure! Who'd ever be insane to ask for more?
Arabella hurled all of those reflections into a single basket, pushing them down the deepest crevices of her mind the instant Edgar's figure became visible.
Her smile returned, shining even brighter as she dashed his way the quickest her feet had allowed her to.
"Please, forgive me for earlier," she bowed slightly, "I almost landed you in trouble,"
In response Edgar chuckled, "I landed myself in trouble," he looked up at her, "Please never apologize for what isn't your fault,"
"Still…," she trailed off, staring down at the flower bed in the works, lips no longer curved upwards, "If I hadn't taken so long…," she muttered.
"Please, Miss," Edgar put a hand up and waved it slowly in front of her, "Let us forget about this and… Please, never bow before me again", his smile appeared and disappeared while struggling to keep eye contact.
"I won't if you promise to drop the Miss when you address me," a tight-lipped grin crept across her features at those words.
"Now, how unfair is that?" Edgar feigned indignation.
"The fairest!" Arabella pinched the skirt of her gown, making half circles with her arms to wave it forward and back.
Edgar allowed another chuckle out before he recovered his usual calm and collected demeanor, with only a faint smile peeking through, "What about you? Did I land you in any trouble by coming by?" he spoke in a softer tone.
"The Master seemed particularly discontented, but I doubt we'd make a dent in his mood," she pursed her lips, "I believe something else has him concerned and we happened to be in his way at the wrong time," she nodded as though it'd make her words truer.
"Alright then, in that case, would you like to pick up where we'd left things off before lunch?" Edgar beamed anew.
"Of course!" she chirped, taking the pair of gloves out of his hands as soon as he'd extended them her way.